


buka

by Sawadoot



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Genre: M/M, modern / alternate universe, monster under the bed type fic, self indulgent scribbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23938834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sawadoot/pseuds/Sawadoot
Summary: Wei Ying's hair is still damp; his eyes are rounded wide-awake in horror and awe at the stillborn reflection within the glass of his bedroom chest mirror. There's someone beneath his bed.
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Comments: 93
Kudos: 279





	1. Hello

Fingers clenched in a white-knuckled grip; hair splayed to the left of his pillow he once more regards shining crescent slits with a nearly manageable trepidation nestled beneath the familiar substantial comfort of his blankets. 

Wei Ying's hair is still damp; his eyes are rounded wide-awake in horror and awe at the stillborn reflection within the glass of his bedroom chest mirror. There's someone beneath his bed. Curling toes and long nails, he's sure could rip into tender skin. It never does much, just watches, as if waiting. 

He'd tried to tell them, somebody, only to be scolded for allowing night terrors to get into his head once more. 

Since then, Wei Ying hasn't told a single soul of the monster beneath his bed who likes to visit just before eight o'clock at night. At night he hears the low rumble of snores, and sometimes if he feels daring enough, he'll peek over the edge to see if gold liquor eyes stare back. It's stiff, rigid, and Wei Ying doesn't know why it's here or what it wants.

It's one of those evenings where he's had it. Wei Ying hates the silence only a mind can occupy, and a mass beneath the box-spring mattress is too large to ignore. Growing dread pits itself at the bottom of his stomach, fuck, okay. I'm _already thirteen,_ he thinks with some confidence. Already old enough not to cry about night terrors or strange hauntings, things that go bump in the night, that watch him with bright eyes. Also, it has long inky black tendrils of hair because they leave behind a few every visit. 

Once they'd wrapped around his ankles, so from then on, Wei Ying never let his feet hang off the bed.

Mounting fear bubbles up in his throat, but he's pushing it down in favor of curiosity. Satisfaction brought the cat back after all. With a gentle swing, Wei Ying grasps one of the bedposts, shifting himself down and wiggling to a comfortable eye-level. The thing blinks, and he found himself blinking back. 

" Hello," he says mostly to himself but also to the creature visiting him this time of night. No reply. He tries again," I said, hello!" Again, nothing. Maybe it can't talk? Scrunching his nose, he swings himself back up onto the bed. Tapping his chin, Wei Ying contemplates so hard he nearly misses a class and falls asleep during it.

When he gets home, the first thing he does is dig through one messy pencil pouch, ransack the desk drawers for a kneaded eraser he _knows_ is in there somewhere, and pocket three blow-pops. Cherry, Apple, and Cherry again. 

Weighing the options, he chooses a cherry pop, brandishing it in front of him as a peace offering as he stoops below the bed, ringlets of shining hair brushing his cheeks, and getting into his eyes. Carefully, he slides the lollipop across the lacquer floorboards where it skids to a halt in front of the thing. "Go on," Wei Ying whispers, unsure. "You can take it." 

But the thing doesn't make any movement. It stares. Wei Ying stares back. Its eyes glitter dangerously.

Wei Ying tilts his head to the side innocently." Come on, come on. Wouldn't you like a nice sweet?" Another blink and a rustle, the thing disappeared within the darkness of the world under his bed frame in a matter of seconds—untouched lolly lying in its wake.

Wei Ying spends the night nestled beneath the duvet, wide awake and thinking about the monster beneath his bed.

* * *

  
  


" Have you always been here?"

"..."

Wei Ying is making a persistent conversation tonight. He added the apple lollipop to the offering pile in case the monster doesn't like cherry flavor. If not, he's sure; he has a raspberry one around here somewhere…

So far, answers have been unsuccessful, but it doesn't leave, so he counts that as one of the little victories. He chatters on about nothing and everything, attempting to coax the thing forward with promises of sweets and no ill intent. Still, it does not come forward, only regarding him with wary eyes. 

Wei Ying can't help the frown that pulls down his lower lip. What would it take to lure a creature out of hiding? Sweets are no interest as far as can be considered within his range of techniques. Shiny objects? "Wait one minute!" He says mostly to himself, scrambling on his feet to once more raid his desk full of miscellaneous knick-knacks in each drawer and sifting through pile after pile of items collected because they're interesting like a cats eye marble or a grape soda cap. Within moments, Wei Ying has lined up several shiny objects from spare yuan to metal keychains he'd received as field trip souvenirs over his time in primary school.

He doesn't expect it to work. Within moments of placing a well rounded pink plastic gem the size of his palm on the floor just below where the moon would gleam brightly in contrast, it was swiped up seconds later, followed by an inquisitive noise. Wei Ying's mouth falls open in surprise, twisting into a mischievous grin. Palms flat to the floor, another glimmering trinket is set to the ground, only this time a little further out toward Wei Ying's waiting form.

A reluctant sounding sniff comes from below the bed where, if Wei Ying remembers correctly; he lost a sneaker prior that year. Still, the shuffling noises indicate it's even willing to try for whatever treasure he laid out. Wei Ying couldn't be more thrilled, watching in awe as an almost human hand steadily wraps fingers around the yuan, struggling to grasp at it before once more vanishing underneath. If not for the deathly grey pallor of the skin, he could be convinced it was undeniably human under trimmed nails or none. 

He attempts this experiment a few more times with little trinkets, some he'd care to lose, but as it goes, Wei Ying is far too fascinated with the result than the collateral toll on his worldly possessions. Something alight to fierce curiosity has set a fire inside his heart, a thirst he's desperate to soothe, an insatiable desire to know who this is inside out beyond the metaphorical boogie man underneath the bed. The drive comes with a cost. Tonight's is the rabbit keychain JieJie had gifted him last year, a bronze carved silly little thing, wasn't worth more than pocket change, and yet Wei Ying loved it merely because it was from her. She'd thought of him, and it was enough to make his heart swell. But he wants, no, needs to know he isn't crazy.

That nightmares turned dreams of boogie men exist. 

His actions are thus, dangling the little rabbit beneath the edge of his bed, swinging it tantalizingly slow as one would for a cat and coaxing softly. Himself on top of the bed, peering down into the darkness, his eyes adjusted to hours ago and waiting, holding his breath, hoping.

Nothing happens. Wei Ying tries jingling it again. Still no movement.

Minutes seem like hours, days even when he finally lets out an abated breath and dares himself a peek beneath. No one is there. The creature left.

Wei Ying goes to bed a hollow sort of disappointment eating him from the inside out.

* * *

  
  
  


"A-Cheng! Do you have any change?" Wei Ying half-distractedly makes to shift his backpack further up onto his shoulder; the left strap cinched too large immediately slips back off, making him huff in defeat. He flips his hair over his shoulder, turning to wait for Jiang Cheng, who takes too long to get prepared after school. 

"Why?" Jiang Cheng says suspiciously, hoisting his backpack onto his back and scooting in his seat more harsh than necessary. He's scolded for this many times, but at this point, it's an unbreakable habit that is so like Jiang Cheng. 

"Just 'cause!" Wei Ying bats his eyelashes, giving Jiang Cheng his best puppy-dog look and scuffing his shoes on the floor. The way his little brother groans and says, "you owe me for this later," before depositing a couple of coins into his palm, has Wei Ying grinning from ear to ear. 

"You're the best!"

"Suck-up." Jiang Cheng's smile doesn't match the bite of his words.

Wei Ying stopped at the discount shop on his way home. Every shelf is crammed with knick-knacks, books, supplies, and canned foods. Posters pasted on the blank walls advertise expired products and pin-ups from another generation long-since, placed neatly on the clerk's desk is a repurposed metal can filled with daisies, their fragrance mixing with the many scents within the shop. He scans the shelves with much deliberation until his eyes hurt in the low fluorescent lighting, rubbing his eyes once or twice.

After almost an hour of hard decision making, he goes with the first few objects that catch his eyes, hauling his two-handed selections to the counter, practically giddily earning a smile from the cashier. He manages not to go over-budget, succeeding by a few yuan. He can't wait to get home.

Jiang Yanli is the first to know something is up, Wei Ying has the habit of showing mischief on his face and for the whole lot of it he cannot conceal the grin on his face when he steps inside their home with a plastic shopping bag of god-only-knows and the sunniest smile that could light up even the worst of days.

She sighs— almost fondly watching him kick off his sneakers without much care and dump his backpack against the foyer table." Welcome back, A-Ying." He scampers past her but not without a quick kiss on the cheek." I'm home, Jiejie!" He's upstairs like a light.

Supposing he's up to harmless play (A-Ying never is quite so benign, ) Jiang Yanli made her way back to the living room in pursuit of a quiet afternoon and a light novel. 

  
  
  


When' it' comes back, Wei Ying is waiting. He can barely contain himself partially hidden beneath the soft duvet, lifting the covers just enough to catch a glimpse of its abnormal hand palming at several of the objects laid out in a strategic pattern of interest. 

" Okay," Wei Ying takes a deep breath." Okay." He can do this; he can lure it out. Patiently dangling the rabbit, he waits, and waits… and waits. "Please," He can hear himself quietly plead, daring not to breathe. Maybe 'it' doesn't like rabbits, they could be physically unappealing, or perhaps it doesn't see the keychain? He takes a peek- eyes stare back. "Uh," Oh _fuck,_ the bed groans with his weight, and suddenly he's thrown backward, feeling the air rush out of him in a breathless "oof," arm smacking off the edge of the desk as he hits the floor with a resounding thud. The covers tangled around his ankle, head aching from where he's smacked it off the lower knob of one bottom drawer, cringing away from the rattling inside his skull. There were better ways to catch a cat, and this time he's for sure on the losing end. 

"Aiya, aiya, that hurt—" His eyes fly open the moment long fingers graze his skin. There, right before him, is a boy looking around his age with slit almond eyes glowing in stark contrast to the darkness shrouding them both. His arms are thin, angular, supported by clawed black hands that meld into a deathly grey pallor at the forearm. 

His lashes are long and pretty, strand after strand of straight black hair hanging over his back and slipping to frame the stony, albeit curious expression on his face. Wei Ying can't breathe, he doesn't dare. Without moving an inch, they hold gazes, both astonished.

It— he reaches out, winding one curly strand of Wei Ying's hair around his finger, looking like he's about to open his mouth and speak when he wrenches his hand back in horror. "Wait!" Before Wei Ying can stop him, he's sliding beneath the bed once more and disappearing.

The door slams open, sudden light is hurting his eyes as he sat completely still as if he would come back. He doesn't come back. Instead, Jiang Yanli is kneeling before him, an expression of concern on her face.

"A-Ying?" She cradles both his cheeks between her hands, attempting to pry his gaze from the bed. But it remains riveted there for some time before reluctantly pulling away to face her ministrations. "I'm fine, Jiejie." 

"What was that crash?!"

For all she knows of A-Ying, he's a gifted liar. "I fell out of bed while I was sleeping." Jiang Yanli knows it's more than that, it's always been more than that when he smiles like he's hiding something. He is hiding something she knows.

"Okay, A-Ying,"

He doesn't sleep that night.


	2. Acquaintences

" So you like shiny things?" Wei Ying currently resides cross-legged on his bedroom floor. Inside his lap is a desk drawer completely pulled from it's resting place with the others, his tongue sticks out to the side a little bit as he rifles through it with both hands. Odds and ends clank loudly at being disturbed. A flashlight balanced between the crook of his armpit and the upper arm. 

The other monster-like boy makes a throaty noise, something like agreement. Wei Ying grins in response, digging further into his collection. It's been three days since his reappearance, and for a moment, Wei Ying feared he wasn't going to return.

" Ummm," He plucks a metal jack from the drawer, holding it outstretched toward the boy." How about this?" The boy sniffs it, taps it with his claw, then shakes his head.

Wei Ying's face crumples in disappointment." No good?" 

The foil of a gum packet is no good, no more yuan is left, and his special guest doesn't seem to like the idea of paperclips very much. Wei Ying has no clue how to please him or, better yet, lure him back out. Monsters aren't supposed to be pretty, but he assumes that's just a myth. After all, he's already thirteen.

" Ah!" He gets an idea. Monster-boy blinks slowly, tilting his head to the side curiously as Wei Ying rifles through the topmost dresser drawer. Hands are shoving things aside in a flurry of excitement. 

" What about this— you—" huh." Wait, what's your name?"

Nothing, a blank stare. 

" Well, you can call me Wei Ying!" The other startles when he settles himself very much besides them, even more, terrifying reaches for his hand." I won't hurt you." Wei Ying huffs, swiping loose strands of hair from his face. 

Reluctantly, it— he? The boy holds out his hand. Long curved nails, a sturdy off-white frame slender, delicate fingers, and Wei Ying is more than enthusiastic to drop a trinket right into the clean palm of it. 

" There you go!" Monster-boy scrutinizes it, flinching when the chain slips before hastily grabbing at it before it could hit the ground once the carved little rabbit comes into view his eyes round and his mouth parts into a fascinating' o' shape that could only be described as wonder. 

Wei Ying beams." It's for you. My Jiejie gave it to me a long time ago, but I want you to take extra good care of it, okay?"

Monster-boy looks up then, his eyes almost understanding." Lan Wangji." His voice is raspy, thick, and it bowls Wei Ying nearly over in surprise. If he were wearing socks, they'd be knocked clean off.

" What?" Wei Ying is almost confident he hears things. Mon— Lan Wangji huffs, rolling his cat-slit eyes." My name. Lan Wangji." It ends with a hiss. Wei Ying thanks the gods with an epic fist-pump for this once in a lifetime opportunity. 

" That's a kind of cool name. Like a samurai!" Lan Wangji tilts his head again." Actually, nevermind."

" So Lan Wangji," he's thrilled to _death_ about this new development. Possibly more so than that time, A-Cheng fell in the dunk tank last school festival." What are you doing under my bed?"

Lan Wangji's face hardens for a moment before smoothing back into it's a usual blank stare." Guarding." He rasps. Is he guarding against what? Wei Ying feels he might not like the answer. 

" Okay? Do you like rabbits?"

" Yes."

Scary monster Lan Wangji likes rabbits, that's one for the mental file. Wei Ying knows he's going to save that one for later." What are you?" He blurts without thinking, or rather that's precisely what he was thinking.

Lan Wangji blinks for the thirty-third awestruck moment that night." Wei Ying asks many questions." 

He defends himself in a heartbeat." It's not every day I find a grown boy underneath my bed, you know? What if you found someone beneath your bed? Nest? Where you sleep! Wouldn't you be curious too?!" Wei Ying sticks out his tongue.

" I suppose." Lan Wangji's voice is deep and almost thoughtful. Wei Ying shakes his head vigorously. They fall into silence as Lan Wangji continues to bat at the rabbit gently, Wei Ying mesmerized by his every action enough to keep silent.

" Are we friends?" He asks, eagerly leaning into the personal space of the eldritch Lan Wangji, startling him once more. Lan Wangji's brows furrow in thought, looking from Wei Ying to the delicate rabbit in his hands before settling on the floor, which at the time seems fascinating. He doesn't know how to phrase their newfound relationship; after all, he hardly knows the boy, and the same could be said about himself. No, they aren't quite friends, but they could be, maybe if Wei Ying can learn to be a little quieter.

Lan Wangji bites his lip, aware of eyes tracking his every move." Acquaintances," he finalized with a nod. Wei Ying deflates." Just acquaintances?" 

Lan Wangji," for now."

At that, Wei Ying beams, taking a strand of Lan Wangji's long, long hair and twirling it around his right-hand index finger." Okay, for now."

Lan Wangji's ears go red.

* * *

  
  


It takes work: much deliberation and talking or lack of more than simple sentences on Lan Wangji's part. Wei Ying asks him many, many questions over the next several weeks, things such as where are you from? What do you eat? Why are your teeth so sharp? And Lan Wangji takes them in stride with simple, "close-by," "plants and mice," and "born that way." Answers that satisfy his friend's curiosity but also makes him more curious as to if his pestering isn't enough.

Wei Ying is also annoying to a fault. His mouth and mind run on lightspeed, always thinking, thinking, thinking, full of boundless questions filled to the brim, and running over. They don't bother Lan Wangji an awful amount, but they do tend to become overwhelming at points. Nearly every day, there's a new question making him think.

Wei Ying is inquisitive as his Uncle put it one day over the table when Madame Yu finally hushes him over the counter because, in her opinion, children should be seen and not heard. "I have ADHD," Thirteen is a perfect age to be aware of one's diagnosis after all Madame Yu loathes him for something he cannot help, and he's known that from a very young age.

"No, you're inquisitive." Said Uncle, as if that changed anything for the better.

Everyone loves a curious mind in theory, but how often do they take the rare chance to see it through its early stages?

He explains this to Lan Wangji one day who cocks his head to the side, a notion that is now endearing, and says, "It's not good to think?" This startles Wei Ying ultimately into sobering, confused, and yet a little relieved Lan Wangji is merely curious and not judgemental of the fact Wei Ying could never keep his mouth shut.

"No," He says. "But people say I'm annoying."

"You are." Lan Wangji holds no punches. Wei Ying flinches.

"But I don't mind." He added, looking at the floor again, a red tinge crawling up his ears, the top of his spine. Though, Wei Ying can't see it underneath the robes he wears, headband perfectly straight around his forehead. Grinning, his friend takes his hand, and this time Lan Wangji doesn't protest.

From that point on, things change. Wei Ying looks forward to bedtimes, whereas he never has before, which puzzles both Jiejie and A-Cheng to the point they're worried he's somehow being bullied. Confronting him just a few days prior, Jijie looked worried out of her mind and A-Cheng as if he could rip someone apart with bare hands alone. Oddly enough, it comforts him to know that if there _were_ any trouble, his siblings wouldn't hesitate to care for matters themselves, that they loved him.

"No! I'm just fine!" He'd saluted, which didn't seem to faze their worries.

Lan Wangji comes almost every night. He says it's his duty, but his ears say otherwise when he never truly could stop their pointed tips from turning a deep red. Wei Ying catches onto this fast and makes use of it whenever he can. Poking and prodding at all the tender spots he knows, grabbing Lan Wangji's hand when he's distracted, sidling up uncomfortably close, sometimes leaning over to whisper in his ear with the excuse someone might hear them talking, though that's never happened before. 

Eventually, it becomes so commonplace Lan Wangji no longer flinches, and his ears hardly turn red as quickly, which only encourages Wei Ying to do more.

"So, what's your big job tonight?" Wei Ying bats his eyelashes, practically in Lan Wangji's lap though the other doesn't seem to mind, running his long fingers through Wei Ying's hair. He purses his lips, thinking for a moment before replying, "bats." It's Wei Ying's turn to blink at the incoherency of his answer, settling into a more comfortable position across his lap. "Bats?" He questions.

"Bats." 

Wei Ying' hmm's, watching pale hands ghost the edges of his bangs. "What about them?" Lan Wangji is very cryptic, especially about his life on the other side. He never pushes answers, but that doesn't mean he doesn't thirst for them.

Lan Wangji's hand stills, resuming just as quickly. "Too many, They're lurking around here lately." Wei Ying isn't sure why that's a bad thing perse but trusts that his friend has his reasons, and thus that should be enough for him. With a nod, he settles back in, nearly falling back asleep at the gentle scratching against his scalp. 

"Hey, Lan Wangji." 

"Mn?"

"What's your real name?" He froze at the question, retracting his hands from Wei Ying's hair and settling them into his lap. Wei Ying is suddenly wide awake, making a questioning noise, lifting his head off Lan Wangji's lap. 

"How did you know?" He sounds almost shaken, something Wei Ying has never heard from Lan Wangji, aside from the occasional hesitance. "You say it funny like you're not used to saying or hearing it." The simple admittance bowls Lan Wangji over. He has to lean back to regain his composure, aware of Wei Ying's worried stare.

"It's Lan Zhan," He doesn't know why he trusts a human boy with his real name, but it's not as if he can do anything with it. "Lan Wangji is my courtesy name."

Wei Ying's eyes glimmer with curiosity. "You have courtesy names?"

Lan Zhan, "Mn, it's tradition." 

"That's kind of cool. Pet my hair again?" Wei Ying is shameless when it comes to affection, Lan Zhan has told him that much before. Not that it bothers either of them.

* * *

  
  


It's three days later when Wei Ying awakens to towering white robes and a group of eight standing around his bedside. Before he can scream, they're upon him. Grabbing, snatching at him, rolling him up in a blanket barely managing to catch his slippery self before he darts off. "Shijie!" He tries, but they cover his mouth, bear down on him, hiss and scratch.

He kicks and pleas; he can hear footsteps thundering down the hall and _begs_ they arrive in time to save him. There's a white-hot urgency running up his spine, molten heat thrumming through his veins. His head pounds in sync with his heart. 

Wei Ying nearly throws up at the urgency in his voice. They twist and pull at him dragging him down, down, down into the Under. 'They look kind of like Lan Zhan,' he thinks oddly enough for a moment. Then he blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi omg i didn't expect this to blow up like it did. i love monster aus and I'm glad everyone does too! I'll be posting art and sneak peeks on my twitter @yilangji if anyone is interested but until then this fic will update every Monday morning I'm thinking. i hope you don't find this chapter too rushed I already had it in the making, though it's a bit short. thanks again for your nice comments and happy reading!


	3. Lans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS STILL MONDAY WE MADE IT

Gusu. The word sticks to his tongue, dry and thirsty. A multitude of colors swirls behind his eyelids, mixing and popping with taste in a red painted macabre of colors. Painted greys are lining his vision. They’re going back to Gusu, to where the clouds float aimlessly on Lan Zhan’s robes, falling and falling.

Wei Ying’s eyes snap open with a muffled gasp.

He’s drenched in sweat, gathered in the folds of his fabric cocoon, afraid and unsure where he is. He felt his stomach pitch uncomfortably with every swing, testing the walls to see if they budge. It slips a bit, something fumbles on the other side where he can just barely make out shapes. Wei Ying licks his lips nervously, once again prodding the side, watching them fumble still.

He may be downed, but he still has plenty of energy left, one should never underestimate their captives. With one giant push against the loose side, he bursts through the loosely held bedsheets. He wastes no time running for it, skidding around the muddy bank, dodging through low-hanging fruitless trees and large shrubbery, fueled by the shouts echoing in tandem from behind.

_ ‘Where the hell am I?’ _

Spur of the moment, a nearby tree stuck out, scrabbling up the long trunk until the foliage blocked both his view and hopefully theirs. Unfortunately, having lost sight of him, the group of white-clad Lan-Zhan-Wannabes gathered beneath that very tree discussing something in harsh tongue Wei Ying has never heard before. 

He hopes they disperse.

Eventually, they do. He waits with bated breath until the last disciple disappears in the remote forest, their group trailing out of sight. Five minutes, ten, until there’s no sign of their return, the only issue now is the fact he’s impossibly stuck across a branch with twelve buds— he’d counted them to calm himself and his rabbit heart. There isn’t a plausible way to be quick but smart when he’s rooted to the spot several feet over the barren earth.

He feels very much like a cat caught in a trap of its own making.

The rough bark digging into his feet reminds him that he's barefoot, one can't correctly put on shoes before they're kidnapped at the odd hours of the night. Snorting to himself, Wei Ying dangles a foot hovering just above a lower branch, stretching to reach its sturdy base. A grunt escapes his mouth unbidden as he loses footing and consequently slips. 

Things work themselves in a spiral, floating yet falling and sinking all at the same time. The ground is rushing before him in a never-ending wave of adrenaline, his heart dropping not for the first time he squeezes his eyes impossibly tight.

Except he doesn't quite reach the ground. Instead, he lands in someone's arms, gripping him tightly around the waist and shoulders as they stumble forward then back a few steps, the soft white of their robes brushing against his cheek.

Wei Ying cracks one eye open, the somebody who caught him looks a  _ lot  _ like Lan Zhan if he weren't older looking he could be him. ”Lan Zhan?” He tentatively tries, only to be stared at like he's some alien creature and not just a normal human boy swept up in a kidnapping which  _ has  _ to be mistaken identity. 

The older man shakes his head. ”I am not Wangji.” Well, that settles it. He's just another gusu-land clone. Wei Ying frowns and the other taps between his brows in amusement before shifting weight from gently held to an inescapable grip. ”You must come with us, pardon me.” 

Like fuck ’pardon me.’ ”Where are we  _ going?”  _

”To the Cloud Recesses.” Older Lan says as if that explains anything. Having given up the moment, he’s caught in a vice-like grip Wei Ying gives up. He is allowing himself to be carted away like stolen goods.

* * *

  
  


The Cloud Recesses are pristine. Their beautiful falls, breathtaking structures, and perfect carvings say nothing of the shiny clean halls they enter. Or the leaves are falling from Wei Ying’s hair that aligns themselves across pressed flooring. His bare feet make a trail of where they've been until older Lan sweeps him up once more in his arms.

They enter a room that smells like sage and incense, immediately overwhelming all five of his senses. He's placed much gentler than he thought he would be in front of what looks like a committee, several elders kneeling in front of him, their parchment papers rolled open and jotting down what looks like figures. That doesn't bode well for him.

Wei Ying is the first to speak. ”So why am I here getting judged by the funeral home over yonder.”

Elder Lan made a face before covering it behind a long, long sleeve while the committee of, in Wei Ying’s opinion, nursing home bingo night older men cough and sputter with indignance. A-Cheng would surely scold him for this, but lucky for him, A-Cheng isn't here.

”Mind your tongue!” The older man at the head of the table snaps, his thin goatee and perfectly trimmed mustache curling in on themselves along his displeased scowl. Wei Ying is sure he's never seen this man in his entire life. He snorts undignified.

Regardless it's best to hear tightwad at least out if he wants to know precisely why he's here and god, Wei Ying does. 

_ Okay,  _ he thinks.  _ Okay. _

Older man— Lan Quiren, so he learns clears his throat, beckoning Wei Ying to sit, he does. Most surprisingly, the Lan who caught him earlier sits down next to him rather than with the other Lans. He offers Wei Ying a reassuring smile catching him glancing over.  _ Okay. _

”I assume you have any questions.” Lan Quiren begins. Wei Ying bites the inside of his lip to refrain from saying anything overly wise. ”I’m going to be as transparent as possible then.” 

Wei Ying can take it; he's  _ thirteen. _

”You’re here because of your metaphysical relationship with my nephew, Lan Wangji.” Wei Ying’s eyes bulge, yeah, no, he can't do this after all. No wonder he seemed so familiar. Is it because they're friends? He's sure he never felt more than a kindred spirit within Lan Zhan, although he's an uptight at times, but a relationship, like, connected by fate or something?

Wei Ying doesn't really know what metaphysical means, but it's a big word, and that scares him enough. Oh God, Lan Zhan’s family is a bunch of kidnappers!

Lan Quiren clears his throat, bringing Wei Ying back to the present. ”Over the past few generations of our family—”

Wei Ying’s mind strays almost immediately to what on earth his connection to Lan Zhan could be. Is it a human puzzle, no, yes? He knows he saw a couple of scattered humans within the crowd that sought to bring him back, so it isn't as if they can't co-exist, and it's probably really nice to live here even if there are probably one-billion rules and their leader looks like a sharpened pencil.

Is it their friendship? At least Wei Ying  _ thinks  _ he might be friends. After all, they never clarified how much time acquaintances take; maybe they haven't graduated that stage yet, and here he was assuming they were  _ friends.  _ But Lan Zhan let him sit in his lap, and that's something friends would do? What does metaphysical mean, do they have a dictionary? He doubts the monster world has cell phone reception.

Where  _ are  _ they? 

Lan Quiren finished with a grave, ”Do you understand?” But because he hasn't been listening to the whole time, Wei Ying says, ”yes.” Like a liar.

”You’re testing my patience.” He gruff's.

”And you're testing mine.” Wei Ying bites back.

They sit there in silence for a moment.

”I’ll show him to his room then.” The Lan beside him says quietly to which Lan Quiren responds with,” See that you do.”

Wei Ying finds himself even more lost than before as he's guided down the steadily narrowing halls.

* * *

The room itself is dull. Covered in intricate art, drawings of the utmost talent so realistic they might reach through and grab you by the sleeve. There is a low table, a desk and little else.

There are stacks of parchment paper-lined across the desk in perfect order. Wei Ying wastes no time ripping into it, shredding shapes between his fingers as a form of entertainment to contrast this dull and frankly unfair punishment. Respect is earned, and they're the ones who kidnapped him! After all, right and wrong were never morally black and white, but in cases like this with no judge, Wei Ying thinks it's plenty enough.

Instead, he focuses on his feelings. Angry? Not really. Confused? Indeed, he's a little tired but more so anxious than anything. Why can't the Uncle Lan understand he meant no harm in anything, just a bit of fun to ease the old tension.

He sniffs.

Now that it's just himself and the carnage of shredded paper, he's made its an apt time to go exploring. And by exploring, he means pry open the old window soft light leaks through.

It isn't easy to get there. First, he has to hurry the desk without making a noise, which seems impossible because it's a dense wood and that itself is a challenge. He's well aware he's huffing and puffing the second the desk meets the wall beneath the window.

Next, putting his ear to the door just to make sure no one is coming, luckily, there don't seem to be any footsteps within his direction. 

Part three of the plan not-be-a-captive is more natural than the first two. Simply gather several books, many books off the shelves and stack them carefully one on top of the other across the desk. They end up haphazard, but that'll work just fine. Wei Ying took a moment to step back and admire his handiwork almost lovingly. Yes, this could work.

With a mighty leap, he scrambles to the top, hooking his fingers beneath where the sill meets the lip of the window and pushing as hard as he can. The window is stopped shut, unbudging from where it hasn't been opened in likely years. Wei Ying gives it another mighty push, surprised when it rattles open with a groan. 

That gets somebody’s attention, and the sound of rapid footsteps has him slipping through the window in a panic, leaping from it in his haste bowling over on the ground, tangled limbs, and bitten tongue. 

He wastes no time scrambling up and taking off blindly into a vast world of oddities. Now, if he had to guess, most of the monsters are based on traditional aspects; after all, it's not often one has a Jingshi in their modern home. 

Perhaps the way this works is seven circles of hell aspect, but that would be assuming they're in hell itself, which is neither hot nor uncomfortable. As far as he knows, Wei Ying can't recall seeing anything relatively gorey. There are no tortured screams echoing through the forest he's now so hopelessly lost in.

At least no one has come in after him, which in itself is a relief because no one should ever be sent to such a dull room even out of hospitality, which he cannot be sure if it is or isn't. Should have paid closer attention, but it's not his fault that the shock of knowing he has some sort of in-depth relationship with Lan Zhan turned I'm full one-eighty and required at least two to four hours processing time.

Wei Ying supposes his worries as current should be making it out alive; after all, wild dogs often find their way into forests, and that  _ would  _ be hell.

The thorns cut and scrape at his body, but Wei Ying pays them no mind, enthralled by the scenery how the trees swing low, their branches light and aching for sunlight. The pine scattered paths made of leaves and mud and jutting rocks of all shapes and sizes.

An occasional stream trickling past, enough for Wei Ying to dip his hands into and trace cold paths across his sweaty forehead.

It's almost pleasant. 

Wei Ying draws in a deep breath, exhaling with the force of his entire lungs. ”LAN ZHAN WHERE ARE YOU?!” 

Only cries answer him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's update day!!! i wanted to update in the morning but i had to edit it and i have no internet lmao so that took FOREVER. this is going to be the last ’boring’ chapter before diving into the actual plot mainly just bc i wanted wei ying to be sassy first. next chapter will be Fun ty for reading


	4. Siblings

art by Ivnesart on ig!

Evenings are often quiet affairs. Charcoal, a thrumming lullaby of sleep-soft snores, painted cherry hearts. Lan Wangji loves the night and all it's vermillion wonders. Hushed coos, grey ghosts, and scene setup beyond just two taps and a quick knock.

It is the time to be awake, aware, mixing within their infinite universe. It is the time of witching hours and Wei Ying.

A little tug pulls at his heartstrings. Especially Wei Ying. A figurative and literal living contradiction to everything Lan Zhan believes to be right. If inquisitivity is a curse, then surely curses can be beautiful. He's no right to question everything on his own, though, it's not as if he doesn't wait long for it.

It's with an anticipating breath that he casts away the curtain to Above as is below he knows the rules, and yet he's already broken several. For once, he doesn't care what might befall him if not for another round of mindless babbling from who could be his very best and only friend. 

Wei Ying is special. Wei Ying sees the world through eyes Wangji would like to possess. Wei Ying— is nowhere to be found. An empty room greets him, so lonely without its usual lively occupant. 

For a moment, he simply crouches from his place beneath the bed, waiting for Wei Ying's general invitation by merry laughter or a cheerful," Lan Zhan! You do come back!" There's nothing. He remains crouched for who knows how long with the dust bunnies and abandoned socks never to see the daylight again. There is no sign of Wei Ying.

He takes a deep breath willing the panic welling up inside his throat to calm down; there's a simple explanation to this he's simply out with relatives— sleeping over with friends— except Wei Ying has few friends and no close relatives despite the family he lives with and often speaks of.

An unnecessary dread curls itself in the very bottom of his throat and doesn't budge.

" Wei Ying?" He hisses, testing the floor with one claw, flexing his hands palm-flat on the ground, feeling around for some semblance of evidence his friend is still here.

" Wei Ying!" His call is laced with worry, poking his head out from beneath the thin veil of a cotton fiber bed-skirt decorated in little fish that taunt him with their dead, empty eyes.

It happens all at once. The sudden light, a sudden weight on his chest, a cheer of accomplishment far too close to his straining ears. Lan Wangji blinks sprawled backward on the bedroom floor, one hand pinned beneath his ass the other lying limp across the floorboards. He lies entirely still, processing.

"A-Cheng! The light!" A distinctly feminine voice orders from somewhere near his face, and Lan Wangji can't help but cringe back. Sudden light floods more than just his eyes, and Lan Wangji nearly growls at how bright it is, how bad it feels.

He blinks once, twice before his eyes settle on the pressure currently weighing down his chest. It's a girl possibly older than himself; she's sitting spread-legged across his chest and Lan Wangji, who's never known a gesture so inappropriate before nearly sputters in surprise. He's faintly aware of the red in his cheeks upon being caught. 

Wei Ying's adoptive siblings are genuinely frightening.

A boy a bit younger than him'  _ A-Cheng'  _ his mind supplied, glares down at him from his post near the light switch he comes so close their feet nearly touch, and if Lan Wangji wanted to, he  _ could  _ kick him over but then there's the second Jiang. Wei Ying's coveted Jiejie was looking like murder in a flower basket.

" Where," Her voice took on a heavy undertone suggesting murder." Did you take A-Ying?" 

For all his bravo, Lan Wangji can't look unimpressed for long, they want answers, and as much as he trusts Wei Ying, Wangji can hardly believe his siblings especially when they have promises of pain flowing through their veins and criss-cross frowns that weigh on even the strongest of men. Her eyes are practically glowing from unconcealed rage. Lan Wangji swallows carefully.

" I don't know where Wei Ying is." He says honestly.

" Don't address him so casually!" Jiang Cheng practically screeches from his post, clambering around to shake his fist at him. 

" He told me I could." Jiang Yanli looks at Jiang Cheng, who stares back in thinly veiled horror at the prospect of Wei Ying himself befriending whatever Lan Wangji  _ is.  _ And yet what a Wei Ying thing to do. Sometimes he thinks he hates his older brother just a little bit.

" So, you're what? Friends?" Yanli suspiciously pokes at Lan Wangji's chest, and he eyes her with the look of a dead fish. 

He replies," yes."

All hell breaks loose.

Jiang Cheng erupts in a series of babbles and little rants going on and on about how Wei Ying is always doing things he shouldn't and getting into trouble and  _ causing  _ trouble. His older sister, on the other hand, slowly retracts from her place atop Wangji with her hand, clamped firmly over her mouth. Muffled words that sound suspiciously like" telling the truth." cross her lips more than once.

It's like being in a sibling tide pool, and suddenly Lan Wangji is very tired. Which brings them back to the matter at hand." You don't know where he is?"

Maybe it's the tinge of panic or the open-ended way he says it that catches both siblings' attention dragging them to the present once more. Jiang Yanli shakes her head, uncovering her mouth." A-Ying was taken last night—"

Lan Wangji's uncontrolled bristle," Taken?"

" Yes. By men in white, under the bed." 

Under the bed.  _ Under the bed.  _ Several smaller Below clans wear white, but the largest of them being his own. Another wave of panic threatens to wash over him—the Lan clan." Gusu." They took him back to just which means he isn't in immediate danger, but knowing Uncle Qiren and his iron-fist Wei Ying wouldn't fare too well beneath his rule.

Hopefully, brother is present and not on another night hunt to which he can only hope.

" What's Gusu?" Oh right. The Jiangs. 

" Where I live." It's too complicated to explain in other terms." Below." Lan Wangji is pointing below the bed, a betrayed expression written clearly across his face. What could they want with Wei Ying? Something akin to anxiety has settled itself deep into his bones.

" Why is A-Ying there?!" Jiang Yanli says in alarm, Jiang Cheng wisely kept his mouth shut, eyes betraying his fear. 

" I don't— I don't know." A headache is beginning to pulse at Wangji's temples, along with a rush of questions to which there was no answer. His head is throbbing; he cradles his forehead between his long gangly fingers willing it to cease. The light isn't doing much for him. 

Yanli's mouth is pressed into a thin line. 

Jiang Cheng spoke first." You need to take us there. No— you  _ will _ take us to' Gusu' with you. Wei Wuxian belongs here with us."  _ Not you.  _ Goes unsaid as if Lan Wangji were the one to whisk away his older brother in the process. Lan Wangji  _ knows they're _ acting out of fear, yet the request is startling.

Could they come to Gusu? Wouldn't it be counterproductive? 

" Please?" Jiang, Yanli noticed his hesitation." We can't live without A-Ying."  _ Not now nor ever. _ But neither can Lan Wangji, in a sense, though there are rules against selfishness and him really for a moment would like to break one of the coveted Lan rules. To hold Wei Ying's hand, know what his heartbeat would feel like despite the constant teasing he would receive.

Lan Wangji hasn't felt this torn in ages.

"No," His heartaches. "I will go. You stay here." 

Jiang Cheng exploded. "And what?! Twiddle our thumbs while you do god-knows-what to get him back? Are you even going to bring him back here?" Lan Wnagji's brow twitched at the implication. "We aren't  _ asking; we're _ telling you to bring us with you! That's my brother." 

Oh, he is the biggest headache to set foot in Lan Wangji's life aside from Wei Ying.

Jiang Yanli fists his front robes, nothing is said, but then again, nothing need be said when she's looking at him, about as lost as he felt. It's terrible to let them accompany, it would be wrong to expose them to Below, it's awful too- but if he were in the same situation. If it were Lan Huan. If humans  _ took _ his brother, wouldn't he do anything in his power to get him back?

"Fine. Do not wander, do not draw attention to yourselves; do exactly as I say." 

Lan Wangji doesn't have time to regret this because he's gathering both their hands on his own, and they're descending far Below, past the gossamer curtain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for such a short update! late too ^^' I ended up moving twice in the last two weeks so I didn't have time to update like usual! I put together a Spotify playlist of songs that remind me of this au you can find linked below. Again, thanks for always supporting me!
> 
> Buka playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/008u7IxrveYJjdfzou3oer?si=z1WqS8l9Sl-a9ole1NCMZw


	5. Reunion

Wei Ying cackles to himself as he gathers an assortment of sticks. Piled below lording trees, scattered amongst the pinecones with multiple eyes and wispy grass blades heavy with dew. He sits cross-legged amongst it all, chipping away at the ends of a stick with a sharp rock, fastening the extra hair-band in his pocket through the notched ends.

Wei Ying saw the barren long-necked things with yellow eyes and gleaming teeth; he was there for the three young goblins, impish and bold. Lan Zhan's world is a bottle-necked wonder. He wants to grapple with the best of them.

So far, it's been  _ forever  _ with not a single sign of Lan Zhan; if it weren't for the fact this is his home, Wei Ying would be worried it was him who had ended up lost instead of vice versa. He concerns himself into a golden threaded stupor, watching the sky paint itself a soft pink, dancing along the edges of a blue horizon.

How long until the glass breaks? How many hours until Jiejie finds him? 

And what of him? Indeed there was a reason Lan Qiren said there was one, but in the end, the discussion was such a dull curiosity demanded a higher set of thoughts, uninterrupted daydreams as they were meant to be. He thinks of Lan Qiren, and his grim face, his neat goatee, his all-knowing looks. Indeed if he is related to Lan Zhan, there's no chance he will turn out to be a Qiren. Wei Ying shudders at the thought.

He doesn't think he could be friends with a second Lan Qiren. But maybe he could try, for Lan Zhan.

Anyhow, thoughts aside, he needs to focus on finding some clearing, maybe somewhere to get a better grasp of where he is right now. He doubts climbing a tree will help any seeing as how there are too many towering, and it would take ages to mount a single one. 

Wei Ying needs to get creative.

At least, that's the move. In all actuality, somewhere between his second and third attempts at threading several sticks together with vegetation, Wei Ying realized that foraging is a lot harder than it looks, and he is certainly no MacGyver. He  _ is _ proud of the false pits that managed to snag a couple of rouge creatures before he flees deaf to their shouts of anger.

This is how he finds himself twiddling thumbs against the rough bark of another tree, attempting to slot three blades of fine woven reeds in between the chipped wood of a birch branch to make a homemade trap. 

Seconds before he can finally deem it unlikely to catch a single soul, a high-pitched yelp rings through the forest, causing birds to scatter amongst the unbearably tall treetops. 

He scrambles to his feet, pausing to wipe bits of bark and vegetation off his shirt before speed-walking toward the sound of what has now turned into sharp breaths.

A boy around his age is dangling by the left ankle, twisting and pulling, three ornamental fans lying in an almost neat pile beneath his dangling body—a peculiar sleek tail whipping and flailing with every unsuccessful attempt to free himself.

The confusion on Wei Ying's face must show because all of a sudden, the trapped boy is looking at him with a wide-eyed deer in the headlights sort of attitude. "Who are you?!" He shrieks more than asks as if he isn't the one currently caught in one of Wei Ying's many improvised traps.

"Well," Wei Ying taps his chin, faking deep thought. "I'm the one who caught you, so shouldn't you introduce yourself first?" This, of course, makes no sense as it is neither here nor there but in all, what is the point? He could get lost inside his head this way, best to stop now.

Whether it be pity or guilt for trapping such a boy, he says, "would you like me to untie you?" to which the boy, still unintroduced, nods so rapidly the ornate gold cuff on his head practically rattles. And thus, a third attempt to climb a tree by the rough bark jutting out begins. Wei Ying would consider himself an excellent climber relating to incidents wherein he finds himself in trouble and has to escape quickly from a window or two.

The boy thinks his climbing is just so-so.

It's fifteen minutes or so before the knot is picked, and the boy hits the ground with a muted 'oof,' tumbling nearly down the broad slope of the hill scattered in ferns and stray mushrooms while Wei Ying scuttles down to the tree base. 

"Oh, thank god," Mystery boy nearly sobs, rising to his feet.

It's the sort of moment where Wei Ying feels the teensiest bit guilty. For laying the trap, that caught the boy in the first place. So it's with a start he tries his best to smooth the tension, if any, with a friendly greeting, squatting over the boy's pile of stray fans in their multicolor, soiled glory. "What's your name?" He says, pretending they hadn't met full-tsunami style.

He catches on fast. "Why?"

"Why what?" Wei Ying says if not innocently.

His eyes flicker to him, up and down. Head tilting to the side, Nie Huaisang, as he introduced himself in a flurry of words, says, "I've never seen a human down here."

"Yeah, that's because I was kidnapped!"

A thoughtful hum crossed Nie Huaisang's lips, a small thing. He tapped his chin, fingers on one hand still working the mechanics of the fan latch, using it openly." How did you get away?" Assuming Wei Ying got away because otherwise, how would he become stranded and setting traps? 

" I got lucky." Wei Ying confesses." But I'm kind of lost now." 

The corners of Huaisang's mouth pull down into a frown, inspecting the corners of one of his prized ornate fans before glancing up at Wei Ying's expectant face. As if Nie Huaisang alone could guide him on a full night's journey back to the human realm. The realm of beasts.

" Unfortunately, I'm lost too." It's true. One moment he's walking beside Da-ge, and the next he's hanging upside-down in a trap so bright it makes all the blood rush to his head. He has no idea where in Gusu they are and more adequately  _ why. _

Wei Ying's expression crumples for a moment, leading Nie Huaisang to believe with dawning horror that he is going to  _ cry. Then _ Huaisang is going to be stuck awkwardly with a bawling human in the middle of Gusu forests. 

Wei Ying immediately brightens, catching Huaisang off guard." Well, then I guess we're lost together!" He holds out his hand, Huaisang supposes for some odd reason he wants him to take it?

They shake hands.

" Well," Dropping his hand, Wei Ying makes to scout around." We won't get anywhere standing around! Let's try and find a way out of here!" 

It's with a prayer and dull amusement that Huaisang put his nose to work, scrambling after Wei Ying as he trooped through the expanse of trees.

Today has been an odd one.

* * *

  
Nie Huaisang, as it turns out, is an excellent conversationalist. He knows many things, such as the best locations within their realm to pick a lotus, Yunmeng, and lists the weather spirits in quick succession without pausing for a breath.

He also has exclusive access to the most interesting forbidden novels, claiming they site practices long since banned or frowned upon.

It isn't long before they approach a local town at the base of the mountain. Crowded with people, Wei Ying could lose himself in the colorful flow of the crowd, all different hues, shapes, and heights.

Beaked things, long-necked beauties, and handsome three-eyed stall owners, there was much to see within their realm. More often than not, it's Nie Huaisang pulling on his sleeves, urging him along.

Mounted porcelain beauty upon the docks. Jin Zixuan is a colorful character decorated in reds, golds, pinks, and sunset oranges. He wore deep blue slippers, ornate jewelry crested around his head and ears almost designed to look like an ornate halo.

The second Nie Huaisang glanced his direction, and his ears stood up stiff, and Wei Ying couldn't imagine what in the seven wonders might make him so antsy. And then Jin Zixuan spoke, knocking him quite literally on his back with the sheer force of it.

Jin Zixuan is twice his height, well-built, and has a permanent curl to his lip that reminds Wei Ying of a sneer. He was sneering as Wei Ying fists at his nose, a trail of blood smearing against his outer cheek. The metallic taste at the back of his throat, coupled with his position flat on his end, has him nearly seeing red as a white-hot sort of predisposition bubbles up from somewhere between the curve of his chest to the tip of his tongue.

Well-honored creature of the waning moon or not, he's going  _ down. _

"Oh, sorry," Jin Zixuan's expression shows he isn't in the least. "Maybe you should watch where you're going—"

His sentence cut off with a heave as a fist connected with the flesh of his gut, knocking the wind from his multiple lungs and effectively cutting off the next scathing remark. He hasn't the time to take more than two gulps of air because Wei Ying is upon him in an instant, straddling his sides between his legs and going for whatever is within reach.

Gnashing teeth, grinding bones, a whirlwind of colorful words spill from his lips in deep reflective hues. All Wei Ying can see is red, red,  _ red. _ His fists work as fast as they can, connecting with a cheekbone, scratching down his winding neck, furiously laying to rest all the horrible words Jin Zixuan dare commit and the ones he will by the time he is finished with him.

It's in the moment someone is prying him off in a rush of adrenaline he fights them too, writhing in their grasp, fingers, on the one hand, slipping beneath the other's and attempting to pry them away where they lay scalding hot on his shoulder. He spat at him one last time, ears ringing, Nie Huaisang somewhere in the background tittering nervously.

"Wei Ying!" They spun him around.

It's Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan looked positively flushed, his chest heaving in quick succession, his expression pinched. His hair in several tangles, if he weren't so angry, Wei Ying might run his fingers through them, watch them form perfect little ringlets beneath his touch. Might smell the comforting scent of sandalwood— today is not one of the days for hazy daydreams.

"Do you not know the commotion you're causing?!" Lan Zhan's voice pitches borderline condescending, and it irks him. 

"Why did you stop me?!" Wei Ying replies hotly, aware of the already forming crowd. "He deserved it!" 

"Wei Ying!" Lan Zhan declares, grabbing his arms and shaking him once, twice, thrice. As if he could knock the temper out of him though that does just the opposite as Wei Ying cries out, "Lan Zhan, you're hurting me!" Wrestling something awful from his now slackened grip. 

"We're going." He says, hand on Wei Ying's pock-marked holy t-shirt sleeve. He gave Jin Zixuan one burning glance before marching off in one long sweep of robes. Wei Ying is stumbling after.

" Wei Ying!" Yanli's comforting voice soothes him even as he's battered and bloody, hair every-which-way." What happened?!"

Lan Zhan doesn't even glance his way, still guiding them through the winding streets. Something heavy settled in the base of his throat.  _ Look at me; he _ wants to say. But he doesn't. Instead, Wei Ying says," I don't know." Like an idiot.

No amount of urging can dislodge the answer from his stubborn mouth. They spend the rest of the walk in silence.

Lan Zhan doesn't make eye contact for the rest of the trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not very proud of this chapter but to get where I want I have to write something ig. i have the next few chapters plotted out but it might take me a while because of college. i hope this chapter is okay I didn't have a lot of motivation to work on it

**Author's Note:**

> a concept im playing around with


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